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The Dream
Twisting, swirling, spiraling through,
A melody of color, pink, yellow, blue.
Color everywhere, color suddenly void.
Contorting, changing, my color scheme destroyed.
Monochromatic becomes the norm.
Everything the same, all will conform.
Shadows writhe in a billowing plight
existant dependant on a flickering light.
Setting changes, walls slither out.
graveyard denizens appear with a shout.
Ghosts colide witth me. The spirits start a dance.
Their transluscent sway has me in a trance.
Ghosts dissapear, trees take their place,
waving about in the winds embrace.
Birds in the trees, dislodged, begin their chime.
Schreeches so loud they cross space and time.
Hearing their call, the river sings along,
Screaming like a Banshee he mumbles through the song.
THe rocks hear the river and feel left out,
Carressing the ground beneath them with a whisper not a shout.
Inhabitants of the ground run in fear.
When the very rocks cry out they percieve the end is near.
They were right of course, everything goes black.
With a shudder and a moan suddenly, I'm back.
I open my eyes and blink from the light.
It's amazing how when separated from consciousness, imagination takes flight.
A dream it was, yes a dream so real,
The soothing black of sleep has certainly not lost its appeal.
Oh my vivid dreams I have are brighter than the sun. Too bad dreary consciousness has to ruin my fun.
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